Star Pupil (Show Jumping Dreams ~ Book 4) Page 5

  “Up here,” she said. “The grooms sleep on one side and we get to have the whole other side for ourselves.”

  “We get to sleep in the barn?” I said. “Could this place get any better?”

  “Nope,” she said.

  “I think I might be dreaming,” I sighed. “Actually dreaming and any minute now my mom is going to come into my room and tell me that I’m late for school and I have a test that I haven’t studied for.”

  “You worry too much,” Becka laughed.

  She grabbed me and swung me around in the large living room and we both danced around until we were dizzy. We collapsed onto the plush couches that lined the walls. In the kitchen I could see Jess, a scowl on her face as she made a sandwich. For once, she didn’t have any of her annoying friends there to gang up on me. Now I was the one who had a friend by my side and she was the one who was off all alone. I almost felt sorry for her but after everything she’d done to me and Bluebird, I certainly didn’t feel sorry enough to invite her to join in.

  A girl with brown pigtails poked her head through the door.

  “You’d better quit goofing around,” she said. “Miguel is here and he wants to see all of us in the barn.”

  And as I walked down the stairs, butterflies in my stomach, I wondered if Miguel would be everything that I imagined him to be.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Miguel was indeed everything I imagined him to be and yet somehow more. He had dark skin and deep eyes and when he spoke, his voice made me think of far off beaches and drinks with umbrellas in them.

  “He looks like an underwear model,” Becka whispered.

  “Be quiet,” I mumbled under my breath.

  We were all standing in front of our horse’s stalls. I felt like we were being judged or at the very least were about to have some sort of impromptu inspection. Some of the other girls looked about as nervous as I felt and the others were clearly as star struck as Becka was, although it was hard to tell whether it was because of his talents or his looks. There was only one boy, who had red hair and a face full of freckles. His horse was a chestnut Paint with one blue eye.

  “Welcome to Black Gate,” Miguel spread his arms wide. “I hope you will think of this place as your home for the next few days. I am very happy to have you all here and to see what you can show me but I must remind you that this is a working stable. My horses come first and you must not get in the way of the grooms who care for them. I strongly urge you to stay at this end of the barn. Is that understood?”

  We all nodded. It made sense to me. His horses were million dollar investments. Without them, he didn’t have a career. Jess had a scowl on her face and I waited for her to open her mouth and protest that her horse was worth just as much as any of his horses and should come before everything but for once she didn’t speak.

  “Now while you are here, you will all be expected to care for your own horses. The feed you brought with you has been placed in trunks outside your stalls and Dan will show you where the buckets and rakes are. You must keep your horse’s stall clean. I will not have students who only care about riding and nothing else.”

  “I don’t clean stalls,” Jess said, obviously not able to keep quiet for a moment longer.

  “Excuse me?” Miguel said, striding over and standing in front of her with his hands on his hips. “What did you say?”

  “I said I don’t clean stalls,” she looked defiantly up at him.

  “You will clean your horse’s stall or you will not ride,” he said. He turned to walk away but then looked back. “What is your name?”

  “Jess Eastford,” she stuck her nose up in the air as she replied.

  “Ah yes,” he said. “The girl who bought her way into my clinic. I would have thought that you of all people would have been better served to try and make a good impression, especially considering you hardly have the riding talent to back yourself up.”

  A snicker ran through the group and I thought for a moment that Jess was going to cry. I was pretty sure that she’d never had anyone speak to her like that in her entire life. Her daddy’s money may have bought her an expensive new horse and a spot in the clinic but it was clear that there was one thing it couldn’t do, buy her the adoration of Miguel Rodriguez or one of the coveted spots on his team.

  “All right,” he said. “Let’s get these horses and ponies tacked up and see if any of you have any actual talent.”

  Everyone jostled about, trying desperately to get their mounts ready and presentable.

  “That was kind of harsh,” I said to Becka as we gathered our tack together.

  “Whatever,” she said. “That girl deserved it. Miguel is right, money can’t buy everything. She shouldn’t even be here anyway. She should be grateful that she even has a chance to make the team. Besides, I didn’t think you liked her.”

  “I don’t,” I said. But disliking Jess and watching her get a verbal smack down were two entirely different things.

  Now I knew that Miguel was going to be judging us on everything but luckily I’d cleaned both my pony and my tack before we left. I knew I didn’t have much to worry about but when we were finally all lined up in the ring, I didn’t feel so confident. Miguel wasn’t just looking at the big picture, he was going over our mounts with a fine toothed comb, looking for something we neglected to do, no matter how small and seemingly insignificant.

  He had each of us step forward and announce our name and the name of our horse. The boy, Peter, was first on his paint Rocket. Immediately Miguel began to pick him apart.

  “Your stirrups are too long,” he said. “How do you expect to get off your horse’s back when he jumps with your legs dangling down around his belly?”

  “I don’t know,” Peter began but Miguel held up his hand.

  “Don’t speak,” he said. “Just listen.”

  After adjusting his stirrup leathers to the Miguel approved length, Peter was allowed to move to the back of the line. The next girl had a plain bay mare and a scared look on her face. She was immediately told that her saddle didn’t fit her horse and I felt a twinge of relief that Mickey had cheated so that I could have a saddle worthy of Miguel and his clinic.

  No one escaped the wrath of Miguel’s eagle eye and when he couldn’t find anything obvious, he went the extra mile to make sure there was something he could point out. Even going so far as to pull a pin out of his pocket and poke saddle soap out of the holes in one girl’s bridle.

  “Who cleaned this bridle?” he said, holding up the soap on the pin for everyone to see.

  “I did,” she gulped, looking like she was about to cry.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” he said. “A judge won’t see saddle soap in there. Why should I care about something as trivial as that? Am I right?”

  We nodded. It seemed dumb to do anything but agree with him. After all, the man was a world class competitor so he was obviously doing something right.

  “You should care about things like that because attention to detail is important both in and out of the ring. It’s respect for yourself, your horse and the sport.”

  Jess got the worst of it because unlike the rest of us, she’d been too lazy to run a brush over her horse before she tacked him up. Miguel had a white towel which he ran over Blue Midnight’s hind quarters. It came away black. By the time he was done with her she actually was crying and I felt bad but since I was next, I didn’t have time to wallow in it.

  “I see you have one of my saddles,” he said, running his fingers over the leather.

  “Yes, I won it in a raffle,” I said, not wanting him to think that I was rich and entitled like Jess.

  “You are lucky,” he said. “It fits your pony well.”

  I passed the towel test and the pin through the hole test and every other thing that he had pulled other people up on. I held my breath and waited. There was no way I could have covered all my bases. Had I given Bluebird’s sheath a good enough clean? Did I wipe out the inside of his ears? I was wrack
ed with the feeling that at any minute I was going to be on the receiving end of a lecture but Miguel just stood there with his hands on his hips looking thoughtful, before eventually waving me back to the line.

  “This girl is serious about her sport,” he said. “If you want a place on my team, you would be wise to emulate her.”

  I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face but as Becka grinned at me and everyone else scowled I knew that Miguel’s praise came at a price. He’d just painted a huge target on my back.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  After the horrible inspection, I expected the riding part to go even worse but Miguel was fairly tight lipped as he watched us warm up on the flat. Every now and then he would make a correction but for the most part, he was watching us as we rode around his expensive arena. I wasn’t sure what the footing was but it felt like Bluebird was floating on air.

  Blue Midnight, on the other hand, actually was floating on air. It seemed that Jess hadn’t had much time to get used to her new mount since getting him out of quarantine and she was barely able to control him as he flashed around the ring. I could see the look of thunder on her face as she tried to rein him in and he ignored her aids and bolted into the canter.

  “You,” Miguel finally said, pointing at Jess. “What is your problem?”

  “He’s new,” Jess mumbled.

  “He’s new? You think that is an excuse?”

  “Yes,” she said.

  “Excuse me?” Miguel stepped forward and grabbed Blue Midnight by the reins.

  “No,” she shook her head.

  “You should be able to get on any horse at any time and be able to perform at least the most basic of tasks.”

  He motioned for us all to come into the center of the ring. Some of the other horses and ponies had acted up a little, after all they were in a new place but everyone stood quietly, except Blue Midnight who refused to line up and kept backing into the rail.

  “Does anyone know how I made my start in this business?” he said.

  One girl raised her hand.

  “You rode other people’s horses?” she asked.

  “That’s right,” he said. “I didn’t grow up with money. Didn’t even have my own pony for much of my youth. Instead I rode other people’s horses and they paid me and I won and got noticed. I was a catch rider. It’s a great way to get experience and exposure and I recommend that you all try it.”

  I saw several people shake their heads which was fine for them. Maybe they had parents who would buy them new horses. Jess changed horses as often as people bought new clothes but like Miguel, I had hand me down clothes and hand me down horses. I was used to riding different horses at Sand Hill Stables, catch riding sounded like something to file away in the back of my mind for that horrible, inevitable day when I outgrew Bluebird.

  Miguel started adjusting jump poles and standards. It was time for the real test. Now we were going to have to show him what we were really made of.

  We started with a large cross rail that we were instructed to trot over, canter out and then loop back and jump the same cross rail at the canter. It was an easy exercise and everyone managed it perfectly, except for Jess who couldn’t get Blue Midnight to trot.

  “You,” he pointed at Jess. “Again. I told you to trot in and canter out. What is so hard about that?”

  Jess yanked on her reins and forced Blue Midnight into a ragged trot. His nose was practically pressed against his chest as he trotted over the jump without actually jumping and then galloped back over it. Miguel stood there shaking his head.

  “Why do you even have this horse?” he said.

  “Because he is a champion,” Jess said defiantly but even I could tell that she knew she had more horse than she could handle.

  “A champion is a horse that listens to his rider,” Miguel said, turning and addressing the whole group. “Almost any horse can handle these sorts of jumps. This isn’t the grand prix. You don’t need a mount capable of five foot fences and if you think you do then you are an idiot.”

  Becka sniggered next to me. I waited for Jess to say something scathing in return but instead she just bit her lip.

  “Again,” Miguel said, turning the cross rail into a vertical.

  This time Blue Midnight behaved better, mostly because Jess had him in a head lock and after everyone had gone over it, Miguel put up a second vertical on a bending line.

  “Anyone can jump in a straight line, right?” he said. “With most of these horses, all you have to do is sit there and point. But courses are not made up of straight lines are they? There are turns and twists and bending lines like this one right here. Can you place your horse at the right spot?”

  Everyone nodded.

  “Good. Let’s see, shall we?”

  The line wasn’t hard. I had no trouble getting Bluebird to follow my leg and jump at the right spot. Others weren’t so lucky. Peter took the line too tight, putting Rocket at an almost impossible angle. The paint ran out.

  “No, no, no,” Miguel cried. “Your horse ran out and what did you do?”

  Peter came back to the jump, looking red in the face. Rocket was a good horse, it hadn’t really been his fault and it looked like Peter knew that. He just shrugged.

  “You took him down the rail for a nice little canter. No. He runs out, you correct him with your crop and then you circle back and jump. Don’t give him time to let his mind wander off. You’re not on a trail ride. Do you understand?”

  “Yes,” Peter said.

  He circled Rocket and jumped the second jump and then he took the line again and this time Rocket flew over it. But he wasn’t the only one who had trouble. A couple of the girls had refusals or run outs.

  “It isn’t that hard people,” Miguel said. “Bend the horse around your leg, look for the spot, take the jump. A baby could do it.”

  “When was the last time you saw a baby ride?” Becka whispered.

  “No talking,” Miguel shouted at her.

  The lesson was hard. Each time I thought that I could handle it, Miguel would add something. He put a cone right in the middle of the bending line we were supposed to take, forcing us to take the inside track and when riders started flattening the cone, he stood there with his arms crossed.

  “Take the inside line or mow me down,” he said. “Your choice.”

  “I bet that crazy girl’s horse will mow him down,” Peter whispered. He brought Rocket over to stand next to us. “Do you know her?” he said.

  “Sort of,” I whispered. “She likes to think that she is my mortal enemy but mostly I just feel sorry for her.”

  “I can see why,” he said. “But I feel more sorry for her horse.”

  “I know, another one for her to ruin,” I replied. “And he looks awfully familiar. Do you think he belonged to someone famous?”

  “Could she afford a famous horse?” Peter raised an eyebrow.

  “She could afford an Olympic champion if she wanted one. Her father has more money than he knows what to do with and he buys her whatever she wants.”

  “Well it’s too bad that he can’t buy her a horse that she can actually ride.”

  Blue Midnight seemed to have had enough of Jess bothering him. He took the bending line at a gallop, almost knocking Miguel off his feet. Then he flew over the second fence and put in a huge buck, splattering Jess into the ground. Then he came back and stood with the rest of the horses, a smirk on his face like he knew exactly what he had done and was proud of it.

  Miguel was furious. He pulled Jess to her feet and pushed her back over to the group.

  “Which one of you will ride this horse?” he said.

  “Hey,” Jess whined. “He’s mine. I didn’t give anyone else permission to ride him.”

  “And if you could ride him, you would ride him,” Miguel said. “But you can’t. He is too much horse for you.”

  “I just haven’t got used to him yet,” she kicked the jump standard with her foot. “He doesn’t like me.”

  �
��Doesn’t like you?” Miguel laughed. “What are you trying to say? That you have to be best buddies? Go out for ice cream? Bond over a flake of alfalfa? No. This horse knows his job, does he not? Where did he come from?”

  “Germany,” she mumbled.

  “Germany, where horses jump the moon. You thought you could just buy a champion?”

  Jess didn’t answer.

  “Rule number one. Don’t buy a horse you can’t ride.”

  Everyone in the group looked smug. Our horses and ponies were all nice, in fact they were the champions of their local circuits but they were not blue blooded, pedigreed German Warmbloods and Miguel was saying that it was a good thing. I patted Bluebird on the neck, feeling proud of my dog food pony.

  “Now, who will ride this horse?” he said again.

  No one volunteered. I couldn’t blame them. Blue Midnight was a nice horse but he was in a new country and a new place and while he may normally have been mild mannered, right now he was acting like he had lost his mind. It was clear that none of us wanted to take the chance of being dumped off. After all, who would be crazy enough to volunteer to spend the rest of the clinic in the hospital? I wanted a chance to show Miguel how good of a rider I was but I was pretty sure that riding Blue Midnight was not the way to do that.

  “You,” Miguel suddenly pointed at me. “Girl whose pony nearly smacks her in the face when he jumps. You swap horses with the untalented one.” He pointed to Jess.

  My heart was pounding a million miles a minute. I wanted to say yes but I couldn’t.

  “No,” I finally shook my head.

  “No?” he shouted at me. “What is wrong with you people? Here you are with the chance of a lifetime and you are throwing it away. Don’t you know how many riders would give their left arm for a chance to be on my team? This is it. Make it or break it time. Now switch horses with that girl.”

  But I knew that I could never do that. Jess had almost ruined Bluebird and there was no way I was going to give her a chance to destroy all the hard work I’d put into him and emotionally scar him all over again. I just couldn’t.